Solitary Confinement
by LostInBlueSkies
Summary: UPDATED Can Niles survive a weekend without Daphne? In other news, a new face at KACL brings out the
1. The Good Friend

Solitary Confinement  
by Marita Linde  
  
Author's notes: I know this is a short beginning, but I do plan on making this story more than a few chapters long. Fandom: It's about the whole cast. There's some Niles/Daphne, possibly some Roz/Frasier. Thanks: Katie, for reading and commenting.  
  
"Jeez, it's dark out here," she mused, stumbling up the black street, the thump of her steps against the wet pavement an uneven rhythm.  
  
"Well, it's two in the morning. One would assume it would be dark outside." I watched her blink as the bright light from the street lamp shone in her glazed eyes. Her dark eyelashes fluttered quickly, and suddenly she was leaning against me for support while she wretched in the excellently-positioned street garbage can.  
  
"Are you okay?" I asked, more concerned than I would have liked to admit, and watched the way her butterfly hair clip glittered in the yellowy glow of the street light.  
  
She nodded, wiping her face with a tissue, and groaned, "I feel like shit."  
  
"That much is apparent," I commented. "But who wouldn't after drinking eight straight shots of vodka?" She gave me a look and continued walking, teetering from right to left precariously.  
  
"Roz," I said, my voice strained with annoyance, "the car is right here." I patted the silver steel of my dependable BMW, which was parked right beside me, and watched as she turned around and threw me a sheepish grin.  
  
"Right." I opened the door for her and she climbed in, watching me through the window as I walked around to my side of the car. "Thanks again for giving me a ride, Frasier," she said loudly when I was seated. "Don't know where I'd be without you." Upon uttering that old, worn-out phrase, she slapped my knee in what I'm sure she thought was a friendly gesture and promptly fell silent.  
  
It would be ten minutes before I realized she'd passed out.  
  
Reading the paper the next morning, listening to my father munching away happily at his Captain Crunch cereal, I wondered to myself how my life had changed in the past 11 years since I'd moved back to Seattle. Same furniture, same dog, same father (I sighed with discontent as he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve). The only thing that had changed, really, was the quality of the relationships within these walls. At least I could be thankful that my father and I now got along.  
  
But I was still alone. No steady girlfriend. No girlfriend at all, really. It was hard to remember the last time I'd even had a real date. I was getting older every day - no, every hour- and I still didn't have a woman to share my life with. The thought, as depressing as it was, seemed like the only thing I could think of these days.  
  
Suddenly the door to the apartment swung open, breaking my concentration, and there stood my brother. Disheveled, panting heavily, looking almost ill, he was clinging desperately to the door frame with a helpless look on his face.  
  
"Niles, are you alright?" I asked worriedly, and hurried over to help him walk to the couch. "You look like you've just seen a ghost." He slumped onto the sofa and leaned against it like he'd been walking for days.  
  
"Oh, Frasier," he moaned, "the most awful thing has happened." He looked up at me with bright, sad, wide blue eyes and breathed, "Daphne has left me."  
  
"What? Why?!" Appalled, I immediately sat down beside him, staring at him intently.  
  
"Oh, calm down Niles," my father said, limping over to the sofa and frowning down at Niles. "She's just driving down to Oregon with her mother for a few days."  
  
"Oh, right, I remember that," I said, rolling my eyes. "Is that honestly why you look half-dead, Niles? Because your wife is going away for a long weekend without you? Please, you'll be fine."  
  
"I thought I would be," Niles admitted, still breathing heavily, "but it's horrible without her. The entire apartment is silent. I've forgotten how to do everything! Suddenly I can't cook, I can't clean, it's like I'm helpless without her."  
  
"Oh, Niles, you're such a drama queen," I chided, walking to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. "You'll be fine without Daphne for a few days."  
  
"Yes, but I'd feel a lot better if I weren't in such an empty house," he said slowly, eying me as I handed him the glass. "You know, if I were around people."  
  
"Niles, you are not staying here with us just because you can't stand to be without your wife for a weekend." I started to walk to my bedroom. "The last time you stayed here, you kept me up all night with your psychobabble, and I need to get a good night's sleep tonight because there's a fresh new female face coming to KACL tomorrow and I can't wait to lay on the charm."  
  
"Fine!" he yelled at me as I disappeared from his view. "I know when I'm not wanted. You're right, Frasier, I'll be fine on my own. I'm not that dependant on Daphne!"  
  
Famous last words. 


	2. Merely Freshmen

Solitary Confinement - chapter two  
  
Notes: Well, here it is! I finally got some time to work on it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I hope you like this chapter.  
  
I pulled at my shirt for what had to be the fourth time that morning, adjusting it so it was just the right length. Entering the station, I waved absent-mindedly at some familiar faces and tried to ignore the surprised looks I was getting.  
  
I walked into my booth and watched Roz behind the glass, working quietly. She looked awful. Her hair was a mess, she had dark circles underneath her eyes, and she would stop her work every few seconds to wince and hold her head in pain.  
  
"Good morning, Roz," I said, walking to her side of the booth and watching her carefully. "I'm guessing last night's vodka isn't being too kind this morning." She glared at me, as kind as my words had sounded, and collapsed in her office chair.  
  
"I feel like a truck ran over me and left me for dead, Fras," she began, but stopped when she caught sight of what I was wearing. "Wait a minute, what's going on?" she said, her voice rising in something caught between terror and excitement. "Why are you dressed like that?"  
  
"Like what?" I asked innocently, looking down at my attire.  
  
"Frasier, the last time you wore jeans and a t-shirt to work we ended up having to rush you to the hospital," Roz said slowly, standing up and resting a warm palm against my forehead. "Are you feeling alright?"  
  
I pulled her hand away, irritated. "I'm fine!" I snapped. "Why is it that everyone else can dress casually to work but I get weird looks if I don't wear an expensive suit?"  
  
"Well, it's just that it's not really your style," Roz answered. "Not that the jeans don't suit you well. I mean, you look great, it's just not... expected of you." She threw me a sympathetic look, then turned to her desk to down another Tylenol. "So, what's with the jeans anyway?" she asked between swallows of water.  
  
"If you must know, I'm trying to let out my fun side," I said softly, and watched Roz's face as she tried to keep from laughing. "That great female musician is coming to the station today to do a guest spot on Jennifer's show, remember?"  
  
"Oh, you mean Ness Kelly? That's today?" Roz immediately pulled out a compact mirror from her purse and began to touch up her makeup. "Great, the most gorgeous twenty-something year-old in Seattle is coming to the station today," she whined, pulling at her hair, "the day I show up looking like a heroin addicted Albert Einstein."  
  
"Oh calm down, Roz, you don't look that bad," I assured her, straightening out her skirt. "Besides, she's a pretty big star, we probably won't even get the chance to see her."  
  
Just as I had finished my sentence, the door to the booth swung open and there stood Kenny, grinning. "Have a got a surprise for you guys!" he practically yelled, oozing with excitement. "She's here, doc, and she's a huge fan!"  
  
Ness Kelly, Seattle's most prominent alternative musician, walked through the door. She smiled at me and extended her hand. "Hello, Dr. Crane, it's wonderful to meet you."  
  
She was breathtaking. Decked out in a purple blouse and black jeans, her raven hair was tied loosely back and her green eyes shone out at me. "Hello, Ms. Kelly," I stuttered, shaking her hand gently, "the pleasure is all mine." That only made her smile wider.  
  
"Hi, Ms. Kelly, my name's Roz Doyle. I'm Frasier's producer," Roz explained, shaking Ness's hand and giving me a weird look. "I love your music, you have such a beautiful voice."  
  
"Oh, thank you," Ness said softly, releasing another of her dazzling white smiles. "I love your show, I listen to it everyday," she said to the both of us.  
  
We both thanked her graciously. "So how long will you be doing this segment on Jennifer Harland's show?" I asked, my voice sounding oddly high- pitched.  
  
"Only a week," Ness answered. "I'm really excited, I'm sure it will be a lot of fun." Glancing down at her watch, she frowned and looked directly at me. "Unfortunately, I have to run, I have a meeting with the station owner. It was great meeting you."  
  
I watched her as she left, finding it hard to breathe. "She's gorgeous," I whispered, holding onto the counter for support.  
  
"Sure is," Roz agreed, smirking. "She's a little young for you, though, Frasier." She patted me on the back, pulling the cap off of her bottle of Tylenol. "I hate to have to say this, but you could be her father."  
  
"Look who's talking," I snapped. "How old was your date last night, Roz? I forget if he was eighteen or nineteen."  
  
"He was twenty-seven," she answered angrily, "but that doesn't count because I was set up with him."  
  
"I take it the date didn't go well, seeing as how I ended up driving you home."  
  
"No, it went horribly," she answered softly. "Thanks for coming and picking me up, Frasier. You're a wonderful friend," she leaned over and hugged me. Surprised by the sudden show of affection, I barely had time to hug her back before she pulled away. "If only all men were like you."  
  
Next chapter we'll see what happens with Niles. 


End file.
